Forgotten

They say that people never really die as long as they are not forgotten.
But...
Eventually they will be...forgotten
For me, I suppose that I was forgotten earlier than most.
...Before my death.
But I preferred this.
Being forgotten while I was alive.
Despite the pain. The sorrow. The desire of change. Yet the hopelessness of it.
I know that I will not die twice.
I will only have one death.
After which peace ensues.
A life never lived.
Appropriately ended by a death unlike those of others.
Unlike the living.
I will die once.
Already forgotten.